


Playing With Fire

by Too_many_fandoms007



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Death, Fights, Fire Powers, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, Not Happy, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19929973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_many_fandoms007/pseuds/Too_many_fandoms007
Summary: Felt like writing this, so here I guess. Hope you enjoy.TW's: - Major character death- non-consensual touching (nothing graphic):)





	Playing With Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Felt like writing this, so here I guess. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> TW's: - Major character death  
> \- non-consensual touching (nothing graphic) 
> 
> :)

"I guess we have something in common after all." They laughed a low, joyless laugh as they spit the words out. Looking up at the hero's fucking perfect appearance and then back at their haggard, half-dead one, the statement was hard to believe. In fact, it looked about as far from the truth as a statement could be. 

The hero's dirty blonde hair sparkled like gold in the shifty rays of light peaking through a crack in the beamed ceiling. Her porcelain skin and doll-like figure was shattered in the most beautiful way by the rippling muscles poking through pulled up sleeves and a few shallow rips spaced throughout the red and white patterned suit. A splash of freckles swam across her nose like fish going downstream, her green eyes the color of a lily pad in springtime, warm and inviting and full of life. Her hands were surrounded by small, white and red sparks, the smell of smoke tinging the air around her. Everything about her screamed justice, goodness, purity, and yet had a faint undertone of danger too. 

Whereas the villain screamed evil, badness, dirty, danger, and the feeling one gets when they know they're fighting a losing battle and yet keeps fighting regardless. Where the hero was all porcelain skin and doll-like features, the villain was rough, dirt-colored, and almost skeleton-like in their features. Their dirt-colored skin was smothered in scratches, burns of varying degrees, bruises of all colors, and scars. Their limbs were so wiry and had been broken so many times that they started to look like the crackling lightning that followed them wherever they went. Where the hero had long, golden rays of sunshine for hair, the villain only possessed short, jagged and white strands of greasy, tangled hair. The strands fell haplessly in their eyes no matter how much they pushed it back. Where the hero had green beacons of light for eyes, the villain's blue shards of a stormy, relentless ocean could hardly compare. Acne and freckles spread like the plague over their body, and their mask lay across the room, thrown to the side and abandoned. The black and purple colors of their suit hardly did much to bring out their complexion, and the useless thing was practically falling apart at the seams, most of it homemade and repaired more times than they could count. Everything about them screamed difference, patheticness, defeat. 

And yet, despite all their differences, the duo did indeed have something in common. A certain character trait that they both possessed, a flaw in the system of what makes a hero and what makes a villain. It was a trait one would typically expect of heroes, but not of the typical villain. Well goddamnit, they weren't a typical villain. Fucking sue them. 

"Oh yeah, " the hero said, sarcasm and disbelief so prominent in her tone one could practically see it spilling forth in buckets every time she spoke, "And what exactly, villain, would that be?" 

Slowly picking up sore bones and muscles, the villain managed to wrangle themselves into a sitting position before answering, taking great delight in the hero's apparent confusion. "You're reckless. So am I. Its quite ironic actually that the two stupidly reckless people with similar abilities would end up like this. Don't you think?" 

Instead of a verbal answer, the hero threw a punch at the still sitting villain. Dodging and rolling with ease, the previously sitting villain tossed their hands up in an almost graceful gesture, calling upon the lightning that danced over their skin like armor and throwing the sphere at the hero. The hero dodged and responded with a sweeping motion and a rush of white-hot fire. And so it began. 

They danced back and forth like that for hours, throwing and dodging and throwing again. Finally, the villain threw a web of lightning at the hero, and instead of dodging, the hero grabbed the lightning head-on and turned it into flame, throwing the newly converted fire back at the villain. The villain swore and flipped backward, barely managing to avoid the oncoming attack. The hero only chuckled. 

Fine, the villain thought, if that's how you want to play. Filled with a newfound burst of energy, the villain pulled upon the electricity coursing over their skin and shot it at the hero in giant arcs. The hero desperately tried to dodge the attack but failed. Smiling, the villain grabbed the lightning and started to pull it forward, dragging the lightning-bound hero with it. 

Struggling against the burning of her electric bonds, the hero tried something that she swore she would never do again. Grabbing the electricity head on the hero ignored the burning smell of her flesh as she focused only on the feeling of fire under her veins, the beating of her heart, the adrenaline rushing through her. 

Opening her eyes she heard before she saw the screams of her opponent. 

"What have you done?! What the fuck have you done?!" The villain screamed at the hero. Their fucking hand was burning before their very eyes, they were burning, and there was nothing that they could do to stop it. 

Desperately, they dropped to the ground and rolled around, trying to extinguish the flames running across their body. But their efforts were in vain. The flames continued.

"The suit darling. It's supposed to help keep the electricity going, is it not?" The cold, silkily perfect voice of the hero whispered. Looking up the villain saw the hero standing over them. 

Disgusted but desperate, the villain practically threw the suit off them. The hero looked down and chuckled. 

"So this is the great...the great...god I can't…" the hero said, practically crying with laughter.

Embarrassed, the villain refused to look at her. Not wanting to let them off so easily, the hero suddenly stopped her laughter, grabbed the villain's chin in a jaw-crushing grip, and, in one swift move, both lifted and turned their head, forcing the red-faced villain to look her in the eyes. 

"Tut-tut darling, that won't do. How can I see those pretty little tears if you don't look at me?" The hero asked in mock concern. The villain only glared at her in response, jaw held too tightly by the hero to respond. 

Looking down in defiance, the villain resigned themself to any further embarrassment that the hero might deem 'justice.' What they were not prepared for was for the hero's wandering eyes to turn to grabby hands, and before either of them knew exactly what happened, the hero was on the ground, five feet away from the villain. 

Before the hero could recover, the villain had stood up, suit still abandoned on the dusty, scorched floor. 

Suddenly, the hero started twitching, gasping in surprise before clutching her head in pain, whimpering and begging the villain to stop. The villain only sneered and glided over, crouching down close to the hero. "But the difference between me and you, dear hero, is that while we are both stupidly reckless, you know when to stop." They whispered, before clenching their closed fist and watching as the hero's eyes rolled back into their head, their body giving one final twitch before going still.


End file.
